jennethink

MORE ABOUT FREEDOM

All the recent news about the taped conversations with President Bush got me thinking about Monica Lewinsky.  Remember her?  Of course you do.

I can remember watching the Monica Lewinsky interview. The one she had after the whole thing with Barbara Walters.  Wait, I mean the one she had with Barbara after the whole thing.  She didn’t have a “whole thing” with Barbara Walters as far as I know.  Anyway.  Strong, confident, young, energetic … so many things struck me about her, about how she answered questions, about how it must feel to be her. So honest. She was so very honest. Didn’t pause too many times, didn’t avoid questions, answered straight forward and to the point – refreshing.

I can remember thinking … well, after all, what does she have to hide? Nothing. Nothing at all. Good or bad, her life, her affairs-literally- are known, known by her, by her family, by the country, the world. She could answer honestly. She could say whatever she wanted .. she, at that point anyway, had nothing to hide. We should all be able to do that, shouldn’t we? Shouldn’t we all be living our lives with the kind of honesty and making the kind of decisions that would give us that kind of freedom? Nothing in the dark closet of our hearts, nothing there waiting to come crawling into the light. Every thing either known or able to be known without regret or needing to cover it and make excuses. Oh the freedom.

What’s interesting to me now is that there are only two kinds of people who can have the kind of freedom that I saw in that interview. 1) those people who live their lives purely, wholly and with extreme relentless integrity. And 2) those people who’s horrible sins have been made known to all. Two kinds of people, both on opposite ends of the scale, both with immense freedom.

I don’t have that kind of freedom, not really. There are things in my life that I don’t want to be reveled. And it makes me cautious in ways I probably don’t even know.

Interesting.

WRITER'S BLOCK

I’m convinced there is a god. A writing god. I’m convinced she is woman. And that bitch is driving me crazy. She isn't a happy god; she’s vindictive, unpredictable, jealous. If you ignore her for a while, she’ll get back at you, she’ll withhold all the good story ideas and every single good analogy you could ever think of. She’ll hold them in the palm of one of her 12 greedy greasy hands and juggle them mockingly into the air, like ripe apples, with all your good adjectives too. Until you are left writing:

“Joe thought the girl in yellow looked really pretty. Like eggs.”

CHOICES

My good friend, Kelli, sent me this quote yesterday from Judith Warner's book, Perfect Madness.

If you have been brought up, all your life, being told you have wonderful choices, you tend, when things go wrong, to assume you made the wrong choices — not to see that the “choices” given you were wrong in the first place.

Wow.  Does that hit anyone else right in the gut?  I think that’s fantastic.  So often in life I come across people who beat themselves up over chosing “Option A” - assuming all along that if they’d chosen “Option B” the outcome would have been different.  Maybe so, but then again, maybe not.  And that’s the point, isn’t it?  You make the best decision you can at the time you have to make it with the information you have.  And, bottom line, as Judith points out in her quote, you don’t know that BOTH choices weren’t crap.  Both choices could have landed you in the difficult places you are.  So, now what?

I think we should spend more time getting good at walking through difficult circumstances instead of spending so much time trying to avoid difficult circumstances. In baseball, the best hitters are the ones who can hit the curve balls.  And the very best hitters actually expect a curve ball.  They stand at the plate hoping for a pitch down the middle but also expecting something difficult knowing they can hit it.

Ooh, I feel a spring training coming on!

OBSERVATIONS, FEELINGS, NEEDS, REQUEST

I noticed you ___________.  When you did that, I felt ____________.  I need ______________ and therefore, I’m hoping you’ll ___________.

This formula could save your personal and professional relationships.  In Marshall Rosenberg’s book, Nonviolent Communication, he explains the method in detail. It’s an in-depth book that I feel can be summed up pretty quickly by learning and applying the above formula.

I’m sure the author would disagree with me, but then again, he has a very fluffy cover on the book – light blue with floating clouds and a fru-fru looking font. So I think I could take him in a fight if I had to. 

Regardless of how the look of the book strikes me (or you for that matter) the content is good. When something happens that you don’t like, tell someone.  Mention the situation (observation) let them know what you felt (feelings), communicate your needs (needs) and ask them to do something differently (request).  It is as simple as that. 

In real life, it might go like this:  I noticed in yesterday’s meeting you rolled your eyes and sat with your arms folded (observation.  Note that we didn’t say "I noticed you were disengaged," that’s an opinion.  Or "I noticed you were acting like an ass" – also an opinion – albeit an accurate one). When that happened, I felt like I’d lost control of the room (feelings) because everyone was responding to your reaction rather than to what I was saying.  I need you to be supportive of me in front of the group (needs) so will you agree to stay engaged in the meetings and then come to me afterwards if you disagree with something I’ve said? (request). 

Or, another example: I noticed you left two pairs of shoes by the door in the living room and one pair on the table in the dining room and another pair - well, half a pair, in the bathroom.  That makes me feel like a maid the second I come home and that’s so frustrating. I need to be able to relax and unwind when I get home and see this house as a haven, a safe place. So, in the future will you put your shoes in the closet or at least in the bedroom? 

Amazingly enough, I found that nonviolent communication does work.  (And I’m currently working to keep my shoes contained to the bedroom.)   

"You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can not fool all of the people all of the time."

The above quote is attributed to Abraham Lincoln. It popped into my head this morning as I was thinking about maturity.  And it brings to me the second ingredient to becoming mature: truth. Mature people deal in truth.  First you become vulnerable, then you have to speak and seek truth.

Speaking truth means you are upfront and honest with people.  Speaking truth means you say what you are feeling.  Speaking truth means that you close the gap between who you really are and who you are showing yourself to be to others.  Ooh, that’s big.

Seeking truth is even harder.  Seeking truth means you search out people who will be honest with you.  Seeking truth means you go to someone when there is conflict between the two of you, even when you are right, in hopes to heal the relationship.  Seeking truth means you stand up for what should be, not just what is.  Seeking truth means you unzip your own skin and expose your innermost heart to someone you trust and say “what do I need to change?”

You don’t have to do all of that right away, you know.  You can start with baby steps.  You can start by just being honest with yourself.  Be your own trustworthy source for truth.  What DO you need to change in your life?  No ideas?  Try this:  Think of a quality or characteristic of someone you know that you just hate.  Are they too talkative?  Do they have a HUGE ego?  Are they less than trustworthy?  Do they talk about others behind their backs?  Do they push their own agenda?  Do they fail to deal with problems and instead stick their head in the sand? Think about that characteristic for a minute and then process this:

The qualities and characteristics we despise most in others are usually present in ourselves.

There.  There’s a little bit of truth to get you started

TSUNAMI UNCOVERS ANCIENT CITY

My husband, Steve, sent me this story today.  It's about an ancient city that was uncovered by the tsunami.  I think that's amazing.

There is a nice lesson here.  Tragedy can uncover some wonderful things in our lives.  Sometimes it takes tragedy to reveal something beautiful.  I know it has been true in my own life.  Some of my best characteristics and the best characteristics of others have been revealed when things have gone wrong.  In fact, my very best characteristics were forged during my darkest times.  Were it not for the tragedy, I wouldn't be the person I am today.

Divorce. Death. Hardship. Loss. Abuse. Pain.

Kindness. Empathy. Compassion. Determination. Tenderness. Wisdom.

Am I suggesting it was worth the loss of thousands just to see this ancient temple? No.  I'm not.  I'm just trying to make sense of it all.

THAT'S PROFESSOR SQUIRREL TO YOU

My friend and I were returning from breakfast this morning. As he drove us along Washington street on the way back to his office, a squirrel ran out from between two parked cars up ahead of us. You should have seen him go! This squirrel was on a mission. Schooom … out from between the cars. ZIPPP … into the street. Leap! Leap! FLY! across the pavement. He was one fast squirrel!

Then he stopped. Just like that. Mid-stride it seemed, he stopped dead in the middle of the far lane. He paused. We grew closer. No fear – he’s out of the way. He’s in the middle of the other lane. On his way to the other side. He panted. I giggled a bit. Silly squirrel. Must need a rest from all that running!

Then it happened. He came back.

He came back!

In an instant he had spun around and was sprinting back into our lane. Back into our lane!

“HE’S COMING BACK!” I screeched and grabbed the door handle with my right hand and braced myself with my left against the dashboard.

My friend hit the brake. The squirrel leapt for his life.

It’s okay. We’re all alright. We can laugh about it now. The squirrel made it to the safety of where he started and we made it back to the office. I couldn’t help but wonder what was that squirrel thinking? He was almost to the other side! Why did he come back? What made him start – so freakin’ determined – only to turn back when he was nearly there? It’s silly to turn back when you’re almost there. And dangerous. It makes no sense.

And yet. 45 minutes earlier I had been sitting at breakfast wondering what I’ve gotten myself into. Start my own business? Go out on my own? That’s crazy! I was thinking. Maybe I should turn back. Maybe I should run back to what I knew before. I’m out here in the middle of nowhere with my cheese hanging in the wind.

You find lessons in the strangest places. I’m moving forward.

BECOMING MATURE

So, given the option, I think we all want to be mature. Or at least mature-er. Of course, the pressing question is how? How we get there? How do we move from our current state into our desired state? What does it take to make this journey?

Geoff sat across the small table from me. We both had about half our lunch left in front of us. I had half a chicken sandwich in front of me. Geoff had a half a chicken sandwich, half a full order of fries and half a dozen chicken wings in front of him. We’d gotten together because he wanted to ask me something. He had been trying to ask me now for about 10 minutes. He stammered a bit and rambled a lot. I was trying to listen but it was hard. The restaurant where we were eating isn’t the quietest of spots and at lunch time the crowd is nearly deafening. After a few attempts and a few tangents, Geoff leaned back in his seat, looked up at the ceiling, and stretched both his arms out. He then leaned in, wiped his forehead and clapped both hands together, “Ok!” he said and took a deep breath. He looked right at me.

Ok, I thought, here it comes.

“What I’m saying is …” he paused, “if you will have me, and I don’t know that you will, but if you will. … I really would like to be coached by you.”

“Ok.” I said and smiled.

He didn’t hear me. “….because I need it. I mean I really need it. I’ve got things that I need work on. I want to be better and I’m not getting there on my own. My wife, you know, she knows I need it and she is totally supportive and my boss," he trailed off then began again with another breath, "I just … I have people that report to me and I want to be a great manager, I want to help them develop and I think you are really good at coaching and I just need help. I need it.”

“Ok.” I said again.

This time he heard me. He leaned back with wide eyes. “Really? You will? You don’t want to think about it?”

I didn’t have to think about it. I knew right away I wanted to coach Geoff. I knew before he asked me. And I knew the coaching would make a difference. Why? Because he was vulnerable. In that moment in that restaurant, he ripped himself open and said “I’m weak and I need help.”

Vulnerability. That’s the first step to becoming mature.

MATURITY

I’ve been thinking a lot about this topic. In the past few weeks I have had a series of opportunities to be mature in my decision making and in my actions. I didn’t necessarily see them as opportunities to be mature at the time, but looking back now, I see them for what they were.

I know some pretty mature people. People who are emotionally intelligent. People who are well on their way to full development. I like these people a lot. They don’t overreact. They deal in truth. They live in the moment. They don’t judge too quickly or too harshly. They deal with their issues. I want to be mature. I really do. I really really really REALLY do ... with sugar on top.

Mature people take responsibility for their actions. Immature people place blame.

Mature people adjust to the world. Immature people try to get the world to adjust to them.

Mature people give the guy who asked if you need help loading something heavy into your car the benefit of the doubt and don’t assume he is a chauvinistic pig and call him a jackass later. Immature people write this blog.

I think you get my point.

I’m working on it. More tomorrow.

NO NEWS IS GOOD. PERIOD.

My friend Jeff, does a great job of tying what he’s reading in the daily news to his posts. I really enjoy reading what’s going on and his take on it. But I can’t do the same. I want to. I want to be all relevant and up to date. I want to make posts that tie directly to the things you hear happening in the news. I want to fill my posts with links galore. Credibility, don’t you know.

But.

Have you read the news lately?

A while back, I made a decision to limit my news intake. I guess it’s the old GIGO philosophy. I want to be optimistic and hopeful so I wanted to fill my brain with optimism and hope. I want to be uplifting and encouraging so I wanted to think about things that were uplifting and encouraging. Simple.

Step one: little to no nightly news. I figured that out about a year ago.

Step two: keep it a secret. I figured this out recently.

Why step two? Because people don’t understand. Because people assume I’m sheltered and fragile. Because the second I’ve told anyone that I don’t like to read or watch the news anymore because it is filled with horrible things, I can see them start to picture me in a bonnet. And although I look pretty hot in a bonnet, I just can’t tolerate the look.

However, I’m always looking to improve and I could be wrong so today I visited some news sites. Here are a few of the stories I found:

'Suicide Pact' Woman Thought It Was a Joke 

Ex-Priest Shanley Gets 12-15 Years for Rape 

China coal mine blast kills 203, injures 22 

Lebanese Army Tightens Security in Wake of Beirut Bombing 

Study: Unlikely lobsters feel pain in boiling water 

I didn’t read any of them. Ok. I read the one about the lobster. Maybe lobsters don’t feel pain, but I sure do. Just the headlines depressed me. I simply cannot bring myself to read the others. I cannot, I will not fill my head with such things. At least not in the news.

It isn’t as though I’m shutting off all pain. The life I live, the lives we all live, are filled with grief and pain already. I believe in pain. I think pain and suffering are good things. But I don’t want to eat dinner while listening to them. I don’t want them popping up on my screen as important alerts as I type. I don’t want to sip green tea while reading headlines like those above.

Go ahead, call me sheltered.

Call me shallow.

Picture me in a bonnet if you have to.

And when you need comfort, optimism, hope and encouragement, come and get it. I’ll be ready.